The White Bitch of the Foreigners (PART 2)

I don't know how much time passed. My mouth was dry, my throat irritated, my ass open, my skin covered in all their fluids. I was receiving a brutal, endless gang bang, where each one took turns to penetrate me, laughing at my white, pleading face, spitting on me as I moaned. Warm drops were still falling on my body: semen, sweat, piss that I could no longer distinguish. The smell was dense, acidic, full of masculinity. I was just that: a receptacle, a thing without will, a temple consecrated to their pleasure.

"Can you still take it, white boy, or has your cunt been clouded by so much black cock?" one of them said with an ironic smile, as he opened my legs again, as if inspecting his favorite toy.

I felt it very open. Broken. Impossible to close. They barely stopped penetrating me.

"I think he can't even breathe, he just swallows," another one said, stroking my face as if I were a broken toy. Then he took my chin and thrust his cock into my mouth, making me cough between gagging as he laughed.

"Do you like being our whore, huh?" one of them said, as he opened my ass with both hands and spat on it without shame, before thrusting himself to the bottom. I screamed, but it only excited them more.

"Look at him, how his legs tremble and yet he doesn't close his mouth," another one commented, as he jerked off over my face. "He's desperate for a milk bath."

They lifted me up, holding me between several of them. One positioned himself behind me, the other in front of my mouth, and they began to thrust into me at the same rhythm. My body moved to the beat of their moans, their blows, their laughter. I was a toy and nothing more.

"At this rate, you're going to get pregnant with all of us," one of them laughed, as he came inside me without stopping the rhythm, as if my body didn't matter.

"Do you know how many have filled you up already? Or have you lost count, little whore?" Youssef whispered in my ear, as he grabbed my neck with force, his cock sliding between my wet buttocks.

They alternated every few minutes, and each time I felt my ass free, I knew they wouldn't take more than 2 seconds to fill it again.

"We're going to leave you so open that you'll be dripping for days," one of them said, as he inserted two fingers and then his cock without warning. I arched, panting, and they laughed.

"That's... swallow another one, white boy. Don't pretend to be weak, your throat is made to serve black cocks like mine," one of them said, holding me by the hair and pushing forcefully until I felt his cock opening my throat. Meanwhile, the other one whipped my buttocks with a fury that burned.

I felt like a piece of meat in a savage ritual. But one that had begged to live. That had sought exactly this. And I had it, multiplied by all of them. It was pain, humiliation, and happiness.

I laughed inside. Because they were right. And I didn't want them to st...